New Luck
by mimiam
Summary: There are no other English All Souls' fanfics so I thought I'd start one. Thanks so much for the support! I am continuing it, I'll add to it maybe every 3-4 weeks. It's just a series of very small scenes after Shadow of Night and it's set in present day France and 19th Century London. Hope you enjoy!
1. Life

**This is the corrected version, thank you Astrid Goes For A Spin :)**

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My arms hurt after a long and laborious day in the kitchen, helping Marthe. I had helped her skin the rabbits, first recoiling at the thought but then getting used to it. The sight, the smell, the sound of the knife cutting the skin, tearing it. The worst part was the touch. The feeling of rabbit fur under your fingers, soft and innocent, to reveal the bloody red muscle underneath.

We would have raw rabbit for dinner. Well, Matthew would. He had not had a drop of blood since his last hunt, three weeks ago and he would have to get some nutrients into him. He refused to drink any of my blood while I was with child-or with children should I say-even though I was profuse with it. I almost missed him feeding from me, it had kept us close. Now he was hardly ever there, demanding that I rest for the children's sake. I always disobeyed. It did not feel right to let Marthe do all the work. Yet every evening I was reminded that it was her job and when Matthew had finished scolding me, he would storm downstairs. I would hear the shouts and the snarky comments made by Marthe, reminding him that "Elle sera bien"; she will be alright. I smiled to myself.

I was going to be alright.

I placed a hand on my stomach.

We would be alright.

Matthew came back into my room and saw me, saw my hand on my abdomen.

"What? Is something wrong?"

"Ils seront bien." I grinned and he replied.

"Yes, they will be alright." he smiled and embraced me, turning me in his arms and nuzzling the spot behind my ear.

"They will be fine." he whispered and placed his hands over mine, cradling my little baby bump.

I felt my happiness combust and fill my entire body as his breath warmed my neck and his words filled my mind. I couldn't help but anticipate the future, I would have a family. The de Clermont family would have new kinsmen. I would be a mother...


	2. The Aim

The aim had been to fit in. To live in this time as long as it was possible or rather, as long as needed. It was 1891. A favourite year of mine. And an interesting year in general: it was the year in which the official opening of the Paris/London telephone system took place and the year in which, ironically, Bernhard Zondek, a gynaecologist and the developer of the first reliable pregnancy test, was born. Unfortunately it was also the year in which Jack the Ripper finished off his last victim...I had asked Matthew about him and he had only remarked

"He was a crazed daemon that believed that he was a vampire."

I had not enquired any further.

We had both agreed that we wanted our children to be born in 1891, in due time, of course.

I was now six months pregnant and it was January. I would give birth in April. A lovely month. The beginning of spring. A great birthdate.

We had adopted the names of Judith and Albert Holben. A little couple that lived in East London, where Matthew practised as a physician. I was left to stay at home and rest. I had more time to read the "modern" books of the time that intrigued me quite a bit. I read books on what Matthew did for a living in town. He was a doctor at the Royal London Hospital in Whitechapel. A well-respected man of medicine, his colleagues claimed.

He was particularly late this evening and stayed out till 10, when he arrived in a cab. He was not drunk but the smell of alcohol lingered on his person and stung my eyes when I embraced him.

"Matthew, where were you? I was worried sick." I confronted him.

"I was out for a meal with the chief surgeon and my colleagues, Robert and Alistair, Judith." he put the emphasis on my cover name, reminding me that the staff only knew me by that name.

"I would sincerely prefer you telling me in advance next time, Bertie." I put on my best British accent to match his but ended up pronouncing some words correctly, while others left my mouth in gibberish.

"Judith," he turned to me "do not worry your delicate mind on these minor concerns. Save your worries for after..." he placed a hand upon my abdomen. I nodded and he looked at me lovingly.

"We have been invited to an event tomorrow, my dear. We are to meet Alexander Bell." he beamed and my eyes widened.

"The inventor of the telephone?" I said in a shocked manner.

"The very same." he grinned and picked me up, spinning me around the room.

"I am overwhelmed, Albert. I can't believe it!" I squealed.

"Now let's not get overexcited." Matthew looked deep into my eyes, "It might not become you.". Again I nodded and agreed, knowing my place in this patriarchal society.

"Shall we retire?" 'Albert' asked, taking my hand and leading me to the staircase.

"Yes, Bertie, I must admit, I am quite drained of my energy." I said, still speaking in my dreadful accent.

"Then we shall." he said and we walked upstairs to our humble sleeping accommodation.

There we changed into our night attire and got ready for bed. As I brushed my hair in front of the mirror, I examined my stomach.

"Just look at it." I smiled at him through the reflection.

"Look at them." he corrected, speaking in his normal voice again.

"Come here." he approached me and hugged me from behind, choosing to cradle my stomach. He had a lopsided smile on his face. Suddenly there was a force pushing out from inside my stomach.

"One of them kicked." Matthew announced and I nodded. I had felt it too. A strong, lively kick. A confirmation of life...

A decision had been made concerning the little ones. We had considered all possibilities and the two top girl names were Evelyn and Amelia, or rather Evie and Amy. The top two boy names we had were Daniel and Bartholomew, a name I had come up with. Their nicknames would be Danny and Barty.

We had a hunch that we would have a boy and a girl and if it turned out to be so, we would call the girl Amelia and the boy Bartholomew. Amelia was Matthew's favourite name. He had initially preferred Virginia, as in Virginia Woolf, but was quickly put off when he remembered how she had died. Evelyn, like Bartholomew, had been my choice of name. It was a very pretty, traditional name that intrigued me but I respected Matthew's choice as he did mine. I sometimes spoke to Amy and Bartholomew when I was feeling a little under the weather. It was a way for them to get used to my voice and their names. It also lifted my spirits when they responded, often with a kick. It always reminded me of how lucky I was.


	3. Making Sure

**Sorry, I know it's been a while. But here you go guys :) please review and tell me how to improve!**

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I awoke. It was dusk, the streets were still misty but already did the smoke hang over the city's skies.

It was Saturday. Matthew had told me that we would go to the doctor's together today, but there was no sign of him. Next to me, the other half of the bed was made. The shoes and clothes he had laid out last night were gone. I sighed and leant back into the pillows. I would go alone then. I wanted to know how my children were. And it gave me great joy that I finally got a chance to go out again, and on my own at that! Matthew would kill me if he found out. He'd have me locked in the house for the next few weeks, but it would be worth it, a few hours outside. Fresh air. Human interaction. And of course the exam to find out how the pregnancy was progressing.

I grinned to myself and got up, slowly, carefully walking towards the wardrobe in order to get dressed before one of the maids came in and insisted on doing it for me.

I succeeded, putting on a dress that was tight enough that it would look like I was wearing a corset underneath, one of the ridiculous corsets worn only during pregnancy, but loose enough to feel comfortable. Quickly I slipped into some socks and brushed my hair a little. I added a little bit of rouge to my checks and put some salve on my hands and lips to protect them from the cold.

Then I made my way downstairs. The dining room was empty. Then Emily, a maid opened the kitchen door, freezing when she saw me.

"Mrs Holben." she nodded "Err Mr Holben has already left, he was called on this morning and he had to leave...would you like some tea and breakfast?" she looked a little bewildered. Matthew had probably scolded her for not tending to my every need. I would have a word with him this evening. I nodded and smiled encouragingly. I sat down and Emily disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes passed and my stomach complained at the ridiculous amounts of space it had. Then Emily opened the door and carefully carried in a plate of steaming oatmeal. I thanked her gratefully and she smiled weakly, disappearing once again. I dunked the spoon into the sloppy mixture and ate heartily. I didn't know if I appreciated it more because I had to eat for three or because it tasted so good but I could not stop eating until the plate was clean. Once done I got up and slipped on my walking shoes and put on a woollen cape.

Outside it was very cold, the air felt as if it had frosted over when it brushed against my face as I made my way down the London streets. I hailed the first cab I could see, which stopped. The driver jumped down, opening the door for me.

"The London, please." I struggled to sound British and he nodded, climbing back up and urging the two black horses that were pulling this hackney cab to move.

After about a minute we were moving at a smooth pace, occasionally bouncing when the wheel hit a stone or a pothole in the road.

It took a good 20 minutes to get to the hospital which was, unfortunately, also the hospital at which Matthew practiced. I got out of the cab and handed the cab driver a few shillings, more than triple the fare. He tipped his hat, said

"God bless ye, Ma'am." and left.

I breathed in deeply and made my way up the steps and through the middle arch to the main entrance of the building. Inside was a hall of people and rows of banks to sit on. Reception. A nurse dressed in a pink dress with a white apron was standing behind a wooden lectern on which there lay a massive leather book. I approached her and she looked up anxiously.

"Excuse me? My name is Judith Holben, I have an appointment with Doctor Carwell in 10 minutes. Do I wait here?" I asked politely, forgetting to pretend to be British. She paused and then turned to a nurse in blue, with the same white apron worn over her dress

"Sister Russell? There is a woman here, who's questions I can't quite understand." Sister Russell looked up.

"Yes?" she inquired "What seems to be the problem?"

"My name is Judith Holben and I have an appointment with Doctor Carwell in...8 minutes, could you tell me where I need to wait?" I repeated. She nodded and led me through some double doors into a corridor. The walls were made of brown tiles, glinting in the light of the gas lamps. She gestured towards a door made of dark wood and smiled politely.

"The Doctor is awaiting you." she said and turned to leave.

"Thank you." I called after her but got no reply. Right. I regretted having come here alone. I did feel a little queazy now. This was 19th century England. Medical advances were incredible but gynaecology and obstetrics had not come far. I felt fear prickle on my skin but foolishly reached out with my hand in order to knock on the door. I knocked once, twice.

"Come in?" a voice answered and i shuddered. He sounded so young. Well I could not just run away now. This was it...


	4. Safety Measures

I entered the room and was greeted with the tell-tale nudge of a demon. The stare grazed me and then left me as the doctor turned back to his papers. Great, I thought. My doctor was a demon. But on first glance he seemed sensible enough to be a doctor.

"Right. My name is Doctor Carwell. Mrs Albert Holben, I presume?"

"Yes!" I said a little overexcited. He rose to shake my hand and I reluctantly gave him my hand. He kissed it gently. At the gesture, I stared, taken aback.

"It's always a great honour to have a witch in my company." he smiled in a way that made me feel uneasy.

He was young. A dark moustache curved around his lips and his hair was neat to match his suit and crisp white shirt.

"Well, my husband works here. He recommended you to me. He didn't, however, mention that you were a demon."

"An American as well. By the accent I would say...Massachusetts. You're not a descendant of the Salem witches are you?"

"I'm from Cambridge in Massachusetts. And yes, I am." I raised my gaze to his eyes.

"Fascinating." his eyes glinted with interest.

"Well then, let's have a look at you."

He moved around the desk and I felt his nudging gaze on my stomach. Instinctively, I put a hand over it, shielding my children from his eyes.

He approached me, removing my hand and replacing it with his. He put a little pressure on my stomach from both sides and then asked me to follow him into another room, an operating theatre. As I entered, I saw a small crowd of men, maybe 12 of them, all huddled together. There were at least two pairs of eyes that were of demons and maybe 6 or 7 that belonged to vampires. They really did seem to like the blood and gore. But I couldn't make out the familiar tingle of witch's eyes. Then again I did not know any witches that had chosen to do medicine.

A shudder of fear overcame me. Was there something wrong? Would he operate on me? And where was Matthew?

Doctor Carwell asked me to lie on the wooden operating table on which evidently more than one person had died. He set up my legs carefully and then spread them apart, placing a hand on my abdomen.

"Right then, I want all of you to pay attention."...

The exam did not take longer than 10 minutes. The doctor explained his actions to the medical students that were eager to learn, while I lay still, trying not to squirm at the mixture of chills and nudges running over my skin. When I reentered Carwell's exam room, I felt a rush of relief flood me. It was over. Reluctantly, I took a seat in the leather chair opposite his desk, waiting for him to return to give me the prognosis.

Five minutes passed before he returned, having answered all the questions his students had asked.

"Alright, Mrs Holben. It seems everything is in order. I hope you didn't mind my pupils observing, they need experience."

"Oh no, thank you ever so much. It means a great amount to me that you bring me this news." I smiled.

"Grand. I shall see you soon then." "Indeed, my husband will see to the next appointment." I nodded acknowledgingly and left.

Outside stood Matthew, his face twisting when he saw me.

"Diana!" his voice was agitated. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me into another room which was empty.

"What on earth are you doing here?!" he exclaimed, the vein on his forehead pulsating at an alarming rate.

"I'm at the doctor's. I had an appointment."

"Yes but you were supposed to go with me! I had a patient to see to. You can't just take off!" he whispered loudly.

"Matthew, I'm a grown woman. I can walk through London alone." I tried to console him but it worked adversely.

"No, you can't. Not in 1891 London. There's a killer on the loose!" he looked genuinely frightened for me, placing a hand on my abdomen.

"Promise me. Promise me you will never leave the house without me." he pleaded and I reluctantly agreed. Why did he have to be so protective? I was a witch after all, I could protect myself more or less, couldn't I?...


End file.
